Recreational Lay
by SillyGoy
Summary: So, you want me to tell you about when I was assigned to a witch base? Sure! Let grandpa tell you all about it. Rated M for Mature.


**A/N: This story is still getting some viewership every day. Don't tell me you folks are still masturbating to this.  
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**Recreational Lay**

_This can't possibly have an MA rating, can it?_

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Her lips were soft.

I could at least make that out through the bleary filter of alcohol, though I surely wasn't drunk as her. She had me against the wall, demonstrating her strength by pinning both of my wrists over my head with just one hand. Around my waist looped her arm, and half of my mind was still in the hallway by the time the door slammed shut and locked. Then I realized I wasn't going anywhere.

She slipped her tongue into my mouth and discovered my own, trying to wrap around it in an invitation to dance. I reciprocated gladly, lowering my jaw just a bit wider to better accommodate the starting minuet. Our eyes closed, we tilted our heads, angling towards the side as we explored each other intimately. And we kept this way for a few minutes before she deigned to pull back, and I opened my eyes to the sight of her bright, limpid own of hazel color staring back at me, with a sort of lazy glaze over them as she regarded me like a playful cat who had just caught her prey.

The girl before me had a tomboyish flavour about her, with a ruffled, dirty blonde bush for hair and a healthy, tanned complexion; and this was not to mention her perpetually drunk attitude. But these rather masculine traits did not detract from her femininity; in fact, I think they enhanced and underscored her womanliness. Even in her uniform there was no denying that she was blessed with shape - big, round shapes that were just pressing against my chest, in fact, and then there was the splay of her accommodatingly wide hips from her waist, which hovered dangerously close to my own, to say nothing of her delectably thick hips and powerful calves, her skin made taut by mighty cords of purely lean muscle.

"Hehee~" Waltrud drawled, in a more or less close approximation of a giggle. It was cute, really. "I've caught you now~"

"That you have," I agreed, continuing the facade of a gentleman to hide my wanton lust. "But don't you think it best if you just let me go right now?"

"Now why would that be best?" she frowned, in a way reminding me of a petulant child. Actually, she was pouting now. "You don't want to play wiff me~?"

She then stepped in and leaned towards me. She didn't kiss me this time; it was different: she let go of my wrists and instead grabbed me by the collar of my khaki service dress, and looked into my eyes full of drunken want and hurt. My personal space was being invaded, and though I wasn't entirely against the whole thing, I had some extremely mixed feelings about the oncoming tryst.

"Not… particularly," I half-lied, as I stood on my tiptoes, trying to evade her in vain as she drew close.

"Are you shuuure~?" she drawled, her lips inching nearer. So close were we now that we breathed the same air, and it stunk of mutual inebriation. I didn't reply to her question. What could I reply to that?

"You're so mean~," she let out in a tapering whisper, as she closed the distance in between us and kissed me again. I lowered myself from my tiptoes then, and allowed myself to melt into her through my tongue.

She was a good kisser, I concluded for the second time. These soft, pink lips surely weren't virginal, not with how expertly they tugged and played with mine, which was a slight disappointment. Unreasonable, really, on my part, considering her reputation as a drunken, walking effigy of sex. She had it, definitely, and was flaunting it openly and shamelessly, and it was a hobby of sorts for her to go around and tease all the young men on-base with her beautiful, toned physicality. Apparently, I'm a lucky one, and had caught her in an elevated mood; and a short, witty exchange between us was climaxing quickly into something incredibly scandalous.

Not that I minded.

Her uniform jacket was already unbuttoned, and I slipped my hands just underneath its lapels to hold her through her undershirt. As I closed my fingers around the curve of her figure, I was surprised by the resistance her body offered. Firm muscle was ubiquitous wherever I felt, wherever I moved my fingers about, and it wouldn't be far-fetched to say that she wasn't using a strength spell to hold both of my wrists against the wall with just a single hand. Angel of Death indeed. And a very forthcoming one at that.

She pulled back again, breaking the kiss, and teasing me by tugging on my lower lip. "Hehehe~" she giggled, charmingly, really, and said, "You're a liar. You like it, don't you?"

"No, I don't," I said, matching her heavy-lidded look, even as she removed my tie and began working the buttons of my shirt. Meanwhile, I sunk my hands into her pants to grab two handfuls of her supple ass. "So I'd like it if you'd just," I paused, as she delivered a quick peck on my lips, "Get off of me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," she grinned, grabbing my stiff erection through my pants. "You're stuck with me for the night~"

"Lord have mercy," I intoned, more at the sensation than the threat, and lolled my head back as she began to make a trail of kisses down my body starting from my neck. She planted her lips at intervals as she made her way down, and I assisted her by shrugging off my uniform jacket to give her more access. Soon enough, it was crumpled in a heap behind my feet, and I found her mouth hovering just before my unfastening belt buckle.

"You're a big one~" she hummed, as she regarded the turgid protrusion through the fast-disappearing cloth. One strong finger pulling at the garter later, and my member was suddenly freed and smacked her on the cheek, evoking a surprised "Ah," from her, though she didn't flinch.

Instead she calmly closed her fingers around the shaft and took it gladly, her touch sending a warm shiver across my thighs. Stroking it gently, mildly squeezing it, examining it with curious eyes and otherwise testing my firmness, she looked up at me from her kneeling position, and gave me a mysterious smile, before wordlessly slipping the head through her lips and engulfing me in the warmth of her mouth, with swiftness that deprived me of any time to acclimate.

My lungs heaved a hot, unbecoming sigh as she removed her hand from the base and dove in, right into the hilt, going for a deepthroat right off the bat. Her tongue more than matched my length and wrapped around it, adding to the massage her lips and cheeks offered as she sucked like a vacuum. She held herself steady with her hands on my thighs, staying still for just a moment as my tip tickled the back of her throat, before pulling away quickly, revealing a glaze of bubbly spit as she let go with a loud and wet pop. It was so sudden that I was left dizzy, such that wit left my addled mind and reduced my supposed-to-be clever remark into a low "Oh my God."

She put a hand to her mouth to catch and wipe away the copious amounts of saliva her attack extracted. My uttering of the Lord's name in vain like that provoked a smug look from her, even as she once again took my stiff, quivering member into her hand. "Still don't like it~?" she hummed, in that soft, hypnotic contralto of hers, as she gave it a few strokes. A rhetorical question, as she dove in again without waiting for an answer, kissing me softly at the tip before taking in the first few inches of my length.

Expertly did she knead at the base of my shaft with her digits while sucking on the head. Lewd squelches abounded as she began a proper fellatio, the electric sensations thereof proving to be incredibly intoxicating. This constant, silken feeling that she supplied ushered my free hands dumbly on her shoulders, to grab them than to do anything more profound. Her tongue flicked and swished and otherwise pressed itself against my sensitive glans, and through the dim light I could see her snaking a hand down there to toy with herself. Unbecoming sighs and micro-moans drawled off of my lips, falling into her ears to motivate her to keep at it or go rougher.

She released my quavering, soaking member with another fond and wet kiss, and began to nurse the underside of it, dragging her tongue about its length and giving little, perfunctory pecks that served to tease more than to pleasure. As she was going about it, I slipped off of my shoes and brought down my pants to my ankles. Pausing for a bit, she also rid herself of her uniform jacket, offering me a big helping of her ample cleavage with the unfastened upper buttons of her undershirt. The respite lasted for only a bit, however, and just a moment later I was occupying her mouth again.

"Bloody hell," I exhaled, admiring her enthusiasm. She was bobbing up and down at a pace that shifted between moderate and frantic, worshiping every inch of length and centimeter of girth as she went, letting it explore the space of her mouth as much as she explored it. Soaked in her spit, it was effortless for her to glide along and away from my shaft. Over the sounds of my panting breath and the lewd squelches there was no doubt she enjoyed making, the familiar knot of orgasm began to well up in my pit - and quickly too, such was her skill - so without even thinking, I grabbed her head, steadying her, and began thrusting on my own accord.

She didn't open her eyes to look sharply at me for the sudden move, nor did she voice any complaint. Rather, she kept her eyes closed and took it obediently, once more taking her fingers off the base of my meat. My hips rocked, back and forth, at a pace that matched hers before the roles were reversed and faster as the nearby clock went ticking by. My fingers dug deep into her hair, and squeezed as the irrumatio continued and hastened. Ultimately and inevitably, my sure thrusts became uncertain, heavy bucks, and with a quavering pelvis, I flooded her throat with a generous helping of my seed, one thick stream at a time, overloading the cramped accommodations of her mouth and spilling some of the creamy white liquid past her lips.

I could feel her swallowing it, even as my turgid, pulsating member rested there on her pillowy tongue. The slight compression of her occupied mouth was stark and delightfully noticeable with every gulp she took. Waltrud Krupinski was on her knees, right before me, drinking her fill straight from my tap, and clearly intended to wring out some more to slake her unquenchable thirst, evidenced by how she began to suckle on it again, though gentler this time.

Mindful of my post-orgasmic sensitivity, she retired with careful slowness, gracing my six inches with her passing lips and letting them meet the air again with a thick, bubbly mixture of spit and cream coated about their length and girth. This sticky fluid bridged the gap between her mouth and my tip momentarily, and she brought a hand up again, not to wipe or smear it away, but to collect it on her fingers to ensure not a drop was wasted. She treated the liquid like nectar, sucking it off her fingertips. And with the way she looked up at me like that, her eyes still bright with a predatory hunger about them, it was clear she wanted more.

I was about to say something, but then she shifted on her knees, moving back just a bit as if to give me a better view of her. To my mild confusion, she tilted her chin up then and, without much preamble, opened her mouth. To my amazement and realization, none of it remained. She had drank it all. To prove it, she ran her tongue along her teeth, offering me a few glances at hidden recesses and other areas where it may have pooled up. But there was none.

Perhaps my look was telling, because she gave me a curt, but still awfully smug giggle right then and there. A little bit miffed - and incredibly aroused - at that, I reached for my pocket to pull out a condom. To my surprise, she took it off my hands immediately.

"My, you're prepared~" she cooed, holding the vulgar thing between two fingers like it were presentable. "That's good. Otherwise, we'd have to do it raw, and the reward surely can't trump the risk," she paused then, rolling her eyes to consider the thought, before locking gazes with me again.

"Or can it?" she hummed, coyly biting her lower lip as she stared expectantly.

"Wanna find out?" I invited.

"Or maybe we shouldn't let the alcohol do the talking," she said sagely, as she tore off the packet and pressed the lip of the rubber against my tip. "Disappointed?"

"A bit."

"Don't worry," she reassured, as she drew the condom down the whole length of my shaft. "I'll make up for it~"

The bed was king or queen-sized; if there's any difference between the two, I don't know. Either way, it was huge, and was multiple times larger than what they afforded me for a billet on-base even as a commissioned officer (if only nominally). It could easily accommodate several people at once on the wide space it offered, and I was secretly happy that our little nightly playground would be, in fact, quite a big one, if a little spartan. The sheets and the pillowcases were of an unremarkable white, and looking around the room as she lead me to it forcefully by the wrist, I could see that she hadn't done all that much in the way of decorating her quarters here. Then again, she had just recently transferred.

Surprising me for the fourth time that night, she tripped me by the foot and threw me powerfully onto the bed, eliciting a vain yelping of Christ's name from me. In the next instance, she was straddling me, sitting on my lap with the ceiling behind her back, a feral grin parting her lips and baring her pearly white teeth to me.

To say that she was beautiful in the twilight is an understatement. Her tanned complexion had a mystical, dusky flair about it in the dim light, and more of her shapely breasts was being exposed to me as she worked the buttons of her undershirt. Meanwhile, I brought a hand up to caress her cheek softly like the good romantic I was, even though there was barely any of it at the moment. At this, she blinked, and her feral grin eased into something a bit more compassionate. Or perhaps it was amusement. I wasn't sure.

Her legs rubbed with mine, and I noted with a bit of confusion that the pants she wore were gone, and it was our bare skin making sweaty contact. Funny how she wore actual trousers as opposed to going bare-legged like other witches, but I didn't notice her undressing that much between the wall and the mattress. I could see her breasts now in full, as she had parted away the flaps of her shirt, and though I could appreciate how well-endowed she was, what really got my attention was her midriff.

It was very much built, with chiseled lines describing abs and boasting a powerful musculature, but still lean and kept the hourglass figure of a mature woman. I pulled my hand from her cheek and felt my way across her body, traveling downwards, my fingertips exploring past her firm collarbone, past the wonderful softness of her breasts, to land on her stomach, and perhaps it was foolish of me to be yet again captivated by how strong and taut it all felt. This was the body of a warrior.

When she took my hand away from her stomach, I didn't object, not when she was leading it towards the valley in between her thighs. Sinking into the garter of her panties, my fingers felt something scandalously hot and wet as they brushed up her labia.

"See how wet I am~?" she whispered, before leaning in gracefully, to the increasingly familiar point where our lips were but inches away from each other. Her breath was hot against my skin as she put a part of her panties to the side and invited, "Let's do it."

Steadied by her hand, she sank herself around my member slowly, both of us savoring the sensation as every inch kissed past her labia and got to know her better. All the while, we were staring into each other's eyes, admiring the lustful glimmer in them, with our lips slightly parted as every exhalation was warm and hot. Eventually, she exhausted the entirety of my length, and I was fully within her. She took a moment to lean back and wiggle her hips, acclimating into a more comfortable position, before coming close to kiss me passionately. Once more, our tongues met and danced.

She began to move, to rock her pelvis up and down. It was a slow rhythm at first, with calm, measured movements that allowed our liplock to go along smoothly. Waltrud hugged me, however she could in this woman-on-top position, and I could feel her weight as she used me as a sort of human pillow. I didn't mind (who would?) and hugged her back, shooting my hands past her underarms to wrap around her desperately. I furrowed my brow, melting into her through the minuet of our tongues and the hastening waltz of our hips. With our environs so quiet, and a mild rain beginning to pour outside, the whole tableau was incredibly comforting. I felt warm in her embrace.

As much as I welcomed the smooch, at its end I was left out of breath. It didn't seem to matter to her too much, though, as she merely leaned back, her eyes closed as she focused herself on her ministrations down there. Every complete gyration was marked with a wet sound, and I could feel the palpable build-up of orgasm again as she bounced up and down. Her breasts jiggled, and soft moans drifted past her lips, punctuating her pants and otherwise hoarse, heavy breathing.

"Hey," she then said, slowing herself. "Wanna do me from behind?"

"Yeah, sure," I managed, as she lifted herself off of me. Bent over, she crawled towards the pillows, and I took position behind her.

The view was incredible. Her shapely butt dominated my view as I hovered close, and her womanhood was glistening wildly as she put her cheeks to the pillow. I put my hands on those full mounds of hers and played a little, kneading her supple flesh and spreading them about. But then I couldn't resist the temptation, and dove in, in an attempt to bury myself into her, kissing and tonguing her pussy and earning a few involuntary twitches from her thighs in addition to the low, clandestine moans she offered. Eventually parting my lips from hers with some reluctance, I put myself on my knees and once more met her entrance.

I shoved my entire length in immediately, her drenched sex making the motion smooth and effortless. In the next instance, I was upon her like a beast, rocking my hips madly and slapping against her supple ass. She didn't seem to expect this burst of vigor and gasped as I churned her up. My entire consciousness solely focused on her body, I noticed her arching her back and raising her head, but a quick grab of her hair and a push downwards brought her to the pillow again.

"Yes!" she cried deliriously. "Do it, just like that!"

She liked it rough, apparently. And who was I to deprive her of it?

Redoubling my efforts, I thrusted and pulled as hard and as fast as I could for as long as it was possible, slowing only to rest for a few moments, before resuming in doing her silly. She squirmed on the pillow, resting on one cheek then the other and back again, and I could see her hands clawing and grabbing at the sheets, wrinkling them. Then she was putting an arm out forth, out in the air like she were reaching for something, and inched forward as if to get away from me, but a quick pull on her hips brought her straight back to my hilt and her hand down. Her moans were long drawls, and her leaking drool was making dark spots on the sheets as she bit her lip. As I relentlessly pounded her like this, her face down and her ass up, her walls suddenly collapsed and clenched around me, pulling me into a powerful, quavering grip. She screamed into the pillow as she sprayed something transparent all over the both of us, soiling us further, and she released her curled up toes and flopped limply onto the bed thereafter.

"Oh my God," I could hear her mutter, in the minute of stillness we allowed each other.

Extracting myself from her wonderfully tight space, I was panting as much as her, although it would be accurate to say that I was a hell of a lot sorer. Settling myself on my rump and thinking of something mischievous, I removed the rubber from my stiff member, and snuck a hand under her hip to get her to face up. Though quite limp, she still found it in herself to spread her legs willingly, and I gladly took position in between them. Rubbing my tip against her entrance in preparation, she seemed to notice the lack of the rubber and pulled her head up to take a look.

"You took off the condom," she said, a little bewildered.

"I promise to pull out," I said, crossing my heart with my fingers.

"And hope to die?" she smiled.

"You could kill me, yeah."

"That's right, I could," she stated the fact, before moving a hand to caress my cheek. "But you're not stupid. So go ahead. Take me."

And I did, leaning in as I entered her once more, and kissing her softly before lovingly nuzzling her cheek. "Fuck me," she said, nipping at my earlobe. "Fuck me, now."

The mattress creaked with every thrust and pull as the rain outside gathered strength and introduced a deeper chill in the air. But as we wantonly indulged in each other, there was nothing but warm, comforting heat. I wasn't thinking about the war as I held her close and whispered slightly drunken vulgarities in her ear, and her, delirious encouragements into mine. There was just her and myself, and nothing else in the world. We could feel the slickness of our sweat as we rubbed up against each other, see the longing in the other's eyes. Or maybe that was just me being a romantic, encouraged to think that way more than usual by the alcohol.

I loved the way she gave way as I pushed, and sucked on me greedily as I retreated. Unadulterated without the condom, it was as bare as it could possibly be. Driven by instinct, she began to rock her hips in rhythm with mine, as I rested my chin in the crook of her neck. It wasn't long before I was at the edge again.

"I'm gonna come," I slurred into her ear, and was about to honor my promise, but then she locked her legs around my hips and pulled me into her.

I dropped my jaw in shock as I came again, pouring my seed directly into her womb. In contrast to my dumbfounded expression, hers was a mischievous, dangerous and incredibly amused grin.

"Something the matter?" she asked.

"What the hell, lieutenant?"

"Oh, the look on your face! It's alright, you big baby," she chided, smacking me on the forehead, even as more of my cream oozed into her. "And you're fine with it. Otherwise, you'd have pulled out by now."

"... you've got a point," I conceded. "Are you on birth control?"

"Of course I am. We're actually issued the pills."

"For truth?"

"Yeah. The Sisterhood knows it's better to be safe than sorry. It's not exactly easy to control the urges of teenage girls, after all. So yeah, you don't have to worry."

"Thank God," I breathed. "For a second there, I thought…"

"I'm not stupid, pilot."

"No, not that," I cautioned, putting my eyes away for a bit. "You just… seem to like living on the wild side, you know?"

But then I felt a grip on my jaw, which twisted to bring me to face her. "Alright, so," she ventured, "You're still up for it, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm kinda- bloody hell!" she pushed in, and suddenly I found her straddling me, my member still inside of her.

"We're not done for the night yet," she leered from her superior position, our noses touching as she exhaled drunken air into my nostrils. "Not by a long shot."

And we continued from there.

Now - we see witches a lot, in magazines, the newspaper and on the telly. Most of us regard them as larger-than-life figures, ideals and other incorruptible concepts. I used to, too, until that night with Waltrud. Absolutely shattered my preconceptions of the Witch Sisterhood, and I realized then that they - or Waltrud, at least - were just as drunken, gung-ho and sexually frustrated as us men in uniform. It wasn't our last tryst, there were many others, but it was just a purely sexual relationship thereafter. One particularly awful moment I still remember vividly was when, during an on-base party, I went to the restroom to take a piss, and I'm hearing this noise from one of the stalls. So I opened the door, and Waltrud was there, giving a Navy ensign a blowjob. The bloke from Liberion looked incredibly flustered, but the witch just looked back at me and winked while dragging her lips across the length of his shaft.

I'll admit, I was heartbroken for days. But then, I guess I shouldn't have. I wasn't sure what I was expecting.

Anyway, you wanted a story about my time in Castle Barin? There it is. Anything else, my lovely grandchildren?

Combat operations? No. How about I tell you about the Roman-style bath they had underground, instead? There, I met Shirley for the first time...


End file.
